Following her rebellious heart

How do we remember women in political movements? Be it the anti-colonial struggle prior to 1947 or Naxalbari beginning around 1967, women are mostly remembered as foot soldiers — from brave couriers who often escaped detection, to effective nurses. There is little documentation of these women, with a name, face or story to them. Rashmi Saksena’s She Goes to War: Women Militants of India sets out to change that. The stories of 16 female militants in places ranging from Kashmir to Chhattisgarh, Nagaland, Assam and Manipur form the five chapters of the book.

She Goes to War: Women Militants of IndiaRashmi SaksenaSpeaking TigerNon-fictionRs 499

Saksena starts off with a pacey narration about Ruhi, a member of the first organised women’s group from Kashmir Valley who crossed over to Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK) for arms training. This is followed by sketches of several other women who were believed to be double agents, including overground workers in Kashmir, assistant police constables who were motivators and commanders in the Naxal movement, and faith healers and nurses wanted by the State. The diverse profiles successfully establish the women as the protagonists of their individual stories. To the author’s credit, she does not paint them as agents or hapless victims or mere pawns in the systemic violence of the Nation-State. Instead, she attempts to familiarise us with the lives of those whom the State defines as women militants.

The interesting arc that connects the stories from Kashmir to Chhattisgarh to the North-East is the act of surrender and subsequent rehabilitation, except in the case of Nagaland. For instance, in Nighat’s case from Kashmir and Manu from Assam, the after-life of a surrendered militant/insurgent has been far from what was promised. The government had no use for them, nor was there any social or political support. The experience in Chhattisgarh has been better, with former naxalite women being given jobs in the state police force. Many of them say they are leading happy lives with their partners.

This makes one wonder what motivates these women to shift gears from one extreme to the other. How do we understand the power of ideology — be it communism or a clarion call for secession or azaadi? Or are we looking at a situation where, for women like Kamla, an ex-naxalite, an overarching sense of recognition, control and agency overshadow ideology? Rather than circumscribing their roles as providers of emotional support and moral legitimacy to any political movement, I wish Saksena had probed deeper into what makes women choose to live life on the run and later give it all up. There are fleeting references to the sexual division of labour in the camps, marriage and women often betrayed by the movement. Tying up these ends would have made for a more thoughtful and provocative read.

She Goes to War presents us with a vivid description of women who display exceptional courage in the face of extreme danger. Whether it is Ruhi journeying to PoK in the early ’90s and her attempts later to get back to her family after being exploited in the camp or Avuli Chishi Swu’s eight-month trek to China in 1974 to seek military training and arms for the Naga cause, or Comrade Tulsi’s ambushes — the accounts are gripping and all-too-real.

In the midst of the action and drama, the women also talk about the quotidian aspects of their life as outlaws — trekking through mountains for unanticipated amounts of time while being on your monthly period or, more than getting killed in an ambush, dreading having to pee in the forest in the presence of male comrades.

Hidden fear: Aside from the violence, the women talk about several quotidian aspects of their life as outlaws

It is commendable that the book stitches together stories from five states, but that is also its primary weakness — the need for context. The socio-cultural and political histories of each of the five regions are complicated. Presented as a series of profiles, the book merely makes a cursory introduction to each region. As a result, the narratives seem predictable. By grounding them in the context of their contemporary and historical complexities, the voices would have sounded distinct.

Given that the five states each have their specific language and flavour, a few words on how the interviews were conducted, and in which language, would have been of interest to the readers. The first two chapters have Kashmiri and Gond women quoted directly in what seems to be fluent Urdu and Hindi. Since Hindi is not the dominant language in either of the states, quoting respondents in that language, without any disclaimer, flattens the narrative considerably, and fails to bring out the local linguistic characteristics and histories. Even if the respondents spoke broken Hindi, the editorial team could have conveyed that to readers through suspension points or ellipses in the text.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, Saksena tells us some extraordinary tales of these “violent” women in an accessible language, but the book leaves the reader wanting more.

Suchismita Chattopadhyay is pursuing her PhD in anthropology

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